Denouement
by monkeypoo93
Summary: Imagination is the cause for characters in books, plays, fairytales...the list goes on. But after imagination has wrought these characters' stories, they live on in the land of the ended. What happens after they no longer have a role to play?
1. Chapter 1 WHEN A BOOK ENDS

CHAPTER 1: WHEN A BOOK ENDS.

They didn't particularly like this part of the city, they didn't particularly like the city in general, but they stood amongst the gathered crowd nonetheless. The tallest one of them lifted a scrap of paper from his pocket and held it in front of himself, reading it again. They were all impatient to leave this dark part of town, not that the rest of the town wasn't dark; the whole of this end of the world was dark and dreary this time of year. Perhaps the feel of foreboding was stirred in them because of the cruelty that marred this side of the city, the 'new arrivals' weren't treated kindly when they entered the land of the ended and were immediately locked up for sale.

He retrieved the scrap of paper and, again, held it up for inspection, the tenseness of his arm could be seen in the way the maroon purple fabric of his coat was stretched by his cords of muscle. His strong jaw was tensed in a way that revealed his stress, and his dark eyes darted from face to face rather than focusing on the scrap of paper. His large hands were gloved in leather and his head was adorned with an old maroon purple top hat that had a sad sag about it that spoke of much wear. His skin was pale, though not ghastly, and his hair was a mess of dark choppy locks. The Mad Hatter, perhaps a bit altered from much time spent in this world of the ended, stood ramrod straight, his thoughts far away, reminding himself of why he was here to begin with.

One of his two companions fidgeted and tapped her feet in impatience, wanting nothing more but to leave this crowd and begin preparing a lunch that the Hatter would devour with gusto! She was worried about him. He hadn't eaten much since his add in the weekly gazette had been answered, his head had been too full of preparations for the new companion, no time for eating or sleeping. She didn't quite understand his apprehension or his abuse of time, she found that eating saved time because it gave energy and helped you stay awake. She fiddled with one of her flop-ears dangling by her neck then felt her hair, still in check, tightly woven in a French braid. The March Hare lost herself in thoughts about the cupcakes she planned to make for the un-birthday celebration planned for that evening.

The other of the two companions stood languidly by, boredom apparent on his feline face. He was a pretty boy, with a small nose, angled eyes, perfect smile, sharp teeth and a well-muscled body that was as lean and agile as it was flexible. With his mouth no longer fixed into the crazed smile that had become his trademark, the Cheshire cat had not only changed his mannerisms but had turned into little more than a nuisance, and, according to the Mad Hatter, the biggest flirt that he had ever encountered. The cat took pride in this of course, because he was good at it, he had the face of a fallen god and he knew it. At this moment however, he was bored and wanted nothing more than to be back home lounging on his favorite cushion positioned a few feet from the fireplace, a comfortably warm distance, and the more he imagined his cushion the more impatient he became, this was a stupid idea that the Hatter had come up with anyway.

They all stood waiting, each focused on his or her own thoughts. Then the number was called, making the Hatter start a bit, the other two gave him an odd look, then peered to where his eyes were staring.

She was taller than Alice had been, but only by a few inches, her hair not nearly as perfect in color but streaked with differing shades of gold and honey, natural and wild, she wore only what was necessary to cover her in a nearly modest fashion, but little was left for the imagination, and her eyes were not the gentle kind, but a piercing blue that was deep and filled with a depth of understanding that seemed unfathomable. She wasn't the perfect porcelain doll that the three were expecting, but a wild sort of animal with a fierce beauty.

"Hatter, she's not like Alice," the hare spoke quietly, a sadness coating the words.

"No one will ever be like Alice," the cat crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels, dismay leaking from his harsh expression.

The Hatter didn't answer though, he was watching the girl, watching her cower and try to cover herself, fear apparent in every movement of her golden body. He was frozen as the bidding began, but then the chains on her ankles and wrists were jerked and she cried out, quiet but audible, and the Hatter's hand shot up, holding his bidding number high.

It didn't matter how high the bidding went, the Hatter was a well-known businessman in this city and many of the others, and he had money flowing into the bank constantly. As soon as he began bidding, the other men gave up, knowing that if the Hatter wanted something, he'd get it, no exception. The girl was led to him, limping sadly.

"Take off these horrid chains, I will not have my guests so ill used," he demanded of the hooded chain-bearer who nodded. The Hatter removed his coat and gently placed it on the girls shaking shoulders. "Come, my dear, your carriage awaits," and he placed a protective arm around her and led the way to the black carriage pulled by two black horses.

As soon as the party of four were safely tucked inside the carriage, blankets were pulled from secret compartments and were quickly adorned by the four, the three companions let out a collective sigh.

"What is this place?" the girl asked, bringing the blanket up to her chin.

"My dear, welcome to the Land of the Ended, hot chocolate?" the Hatter placed a tray with a large mug of steaming chocolate and a small bowl full of soft marshmallows on her lap.

"Thank you," she freed her arms from the blanket and gratefully picked up the warm mug. "And what do you mean?" she sipped.

"He means that your story has come to an end," answered the hare, but the girl only stared, question written upon her brow.

"It's hard to understand at first," the cat leaned back in his seat, getting comfy. "Whatever your story was, a fairytale, a fiction novel, whatever, if you were a character created from the authors imagination you end up here when the story is finished," he yawned attractively.

"I'm imagined?" she looked alarmed. "I'm not real? How is that even possible?"

"It doesn't really matter that you were someone's imagination, now you're here and you can make yourself whoever you want, you no longer have to follow the plot," the hare had her own cup of chocolate now, plopping little marshmallows into the frothy brew.

"So… I'm not the warrior princess really? I don't have to die?" she asked shyly.

"No! you certainly don't! You may do whatever you like," the Hatter spoke quickly, alarmed that such a delicate girl had been in such a terrible storybook.

She nodded, thinking. "May I ask your names?" she smiled timidly, a ray of sunshine in this dreadful land, leaving all three companions speechless for a moment.

"I am the Cheshire cat!" ever the dramatic king recovered first, he stood, the blanket pooling at his feet and bowed before the golden girl. "But you may call me Chesh, because I haven't thought of a better name for myself yet," he winked and shot her a very wicked grin that was handsome in a dark sort of way.

"Sit down you idiot! What would happen if we suddenly hit a bump in the road?" the hare demanded. "I am the March Hare, you can just call me Bunny though, I don't want to be called a hare," she smiled sweetly.

"And I, my dear, am known as the Mad Hatter in the story, Hatter by everyone who knows me as a businessman and-" he was cut off by the grinning cat.

"Maddy by everyone who matters to him!" he stuck his tongue out at the hatter, and then laughed.

"Not true! I told you to call me Matt if you have to call me something other than Chapelier!"

"The only people who call him Chapelier are the servants, they call him Monsieur Chapelier though, and little Bunny here is madly in love with him so she does whatever he tells her," Chesh put an arm around Bunny and nuzzled her neck, which made her blush ten shades of red in a matter of seconds.

"You scathing minx! Get your crawls off me! He's really such a fat liar," she laughed uncomfortably, trying to shove the forward cat away from her.

"I'm not fat, Bun-buns," he pouted and let her push him away; he had got what he wanted, one girl blushing and the other giggling.

Completely ignoring the two idiots sitting on the opposite bench, the hatter leaned toward the girl, "You may call me Chapelier, or Monsieur, whatever you like. What may we call you my dear?"

"My name is Aurelie, you may call me that I suppose," she smiled, and it was like the summer sun was shining on the hatter's face, warmth invaded his visage and a soft blush adorned his cold cheeks. When the girl began sipping her chocolate again the hatter took a deep breath and he was seemingly back to normal again.

"Maddy! Are we almost there?" Chesh whined, grinning stupidly.

"You idiot! you can just look out the window and see for yourself! You imbecile, you know where we live!" Chapelier burst out, waving a fist at the annoying cat.

"Whether we're close to home or not isn't important, if you two keep fighting, you," Bunny pointed at Chapelier. "You will forget to be courteous, you have informed Madame Aurelie about where she is, now what?" she sat back, waiting expectantly.

"Oh! Yes, yes," he turned to Aurelie. "My dear, now that you know that you may be and do whatever you want, may I ask a favor of you?" his dark charcoal colored eyes were filled with a smile as Aurelie nodded. "Will you please remain with us for a time? We would enjoy your company and I think you may find us rather enjoyable after a time, perhaps. You may leave at any time, whenever you have discovered what you would like to do with your life here, but until then, will you remain with the three of us?" at some point during this little speech, Chapelier had taken Aurelie's hand in his own.

Aurelie's face broke into sunshine once again, "Of course!" she squeezed Chapelier's hand. "You have saved me from whatever that dreadful market was, and you have treated me with such kindness, how can I refuse so sweet an offer?"

"You two are a complete bore…" Chesh yawned. "So formal it makes me sick, can't you act like real people?" he closed one of his bright blue eyes.

"We are real people! You common nuisance!"

"That's the best you can come up with? Boring!" he closed his other eye.

"Incompetent fool!" Chapelier roared.

Chesh began snoring.

"I'll have his head! Driver, fetch my axe!" he stood from his seat, his blanket falling to the floor.

"Oh no Chapelier! Calm down, you're ruining my cocoa time!" Bunny cried.

And to the astonishment of all three of the oddities, Aurelie was laughing, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes she was laughing so hard. The brightness of her happiness flooding the carriage with a lovely warmth. Chesh had opened his brilliant blue eyes and stared at the golden girl, Chapelier stood stone still gaping at her beauty, and Bunny's face was screwed into a mix of sheer delight and the inability to control her tears.

"Oh!" Bunny flung herself from her seat and clung to Aurelie. "You're so cute! So cute!"

"And you all are hilarious," Aurelie hugged Bunny, both girls clinging to each other as if they had known each other their whole lives.

"Can I get in on this?" asked the very crude kitty cat now beside the two girls.

"Of course!" Aurelie pulled the boy into the embrace and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Unprepared for the acceptance and the kiss, Chesh colored a bright shade of purple and made a funny sort of noise in his throat that sounded like a mix between someone choking and a loud gulp.

"Oh, I'm sorry Chesh, was I squeezing you too hard?" Aurelie let the hug go, no longer supporting Bunny, she slid to the floor, and no longer clinging to Chesh, he still sat a close distance to her.

"Not hard enough," he coughed.

"What sort of story did you come from?" Chapelier asked abruptly, catching everyone in the carriage off guard.

"Don't be rude," Bunny pushed herself off of the floor and sat back down on the bench across from the other three.

"Yeah, don't be so demanding!" Chesh threw his arms around Aurelie protectively. "Hey, I hurt my bottom lip, you should kiss it better," he smiled evilly and winked.

"Oh, naughty," Aurelie tapped his nose with her finger, then extricated herself from his grip. "A tragedy I suppose, myself being something of a comic relief character I guess…"

"You put things together quickly," Chapelier scooted closer to her, eying the leering cat with distrust.

"Some things, now that I'm viewing my life in that book as nothing more than a story I can see it… pretty clearly. I don't think I'm ready to explain it though, do you mind?"

"Of course we don't!" Bunny interjected.

And at that point the carriage stopped, and Chapelier opened the door and jumped to the cobblestone road below, holding the door open for the others. Chesh slinked out, stretching his arms and legs, Bunny stumbled out close behind him, nearly treading on his tail. Aurelie peeked out the door, suddenly shy again, clutching the hatter's maroon coat tightly to her scantily clad body. Chapelier reached a hand up to her and helped her down from the carriage, and quickly led everyone to the shuttered hat shop.

Aurelie looked up and down the cobblestone street in awe; the little brick houses were situated so closely together, some even on top of each other their shapes and sizes varying vastly. But her glimpse of this world was cut short by the closing of the hat shop's door. It was too dark to see, but she felt the hatter's hand one her shoulder guiding her through the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2 THE GIRL WHO DARED TO DREAM

9

CHAPTER 2: THE GIRL WHO DARED TO DREAM

"Don't you see what this means?" the girl squealed with delight, young and vibrant and full of life, blonde and perfect, a porcelain doll with ideas a constant flow from her imaginative young mind.

He smiled at her, all too pleased with how she now clung to his arm. "What does it mean?" he asked her, because he knew that's what she wanted.

"It means," she paused, for effect. "We can be anyone we want, do anything we like! Our dreams can become reality, its perfect! Now tell me," she demanded. "What is it that you long to do?" her big ice blue eyes stared up at him innocently.

He smiled sheepishly, knowing that she was still too young to quite understand what exactly he was thinking he longed to do just now. He cleared his throat and hoped that the warmth he felt in his cheeks wasn't too noticeable. "I would very much like to open a hat shop I think," he said blandly, almost mechanically, embarrassed by his own racing mind and unable to think of a better answer.

"A hat shop?" the girl questioned, but he could see that she was considering his idea seriously. "It's perfect for you Maddy! Simply splendid!" she let go of his arm and twirled before him. "And what about you?" she asked of the four figures who were still staring at the new sights around them warily.

"I…" the wide-eyed march hare gulped visibly. "I want Maddy to open a hat shop! And for all of us to live in a little house! We'll all love each other and have cake every day!" one moment she was hopping about, the next she was squirming, holding herself tight, and finally she had attached herself to the Cheshire cat, who had been standing languidly by, a lazy smile on his lips which slowly grew into a wicked grin as the march hare nuzzled up against him, unaware of whom she had attached herself to.

"Well that sounds lovely, may I share a room with Harry here?" asked the crude cat, now taking the girl in his arms and squeezing her closer.

She squawked, and immediately began trying to free herself by squirming and wriggling and smacking the cat, which only made him laugh.

"We want to stay with Maddy too!" cried the twin tweedles, each grabbing one of the mad hatter's arms.

"What about you Alice?" the Cheshire cat asked of the girl who was still contemplating, at some point he had let the hare go, but the grin had yet to leave his lips.

"I think this is splendid! All we need is to find a place to begin this dream…" she looked around, and there, just behind them, was a rundown building with the looks of abandonment apparent in the sad sag of the roof, the rotten porch steps and the topsy-turvy chimney. "It's positively perfect, do you see?" she said while pointing.

The party of six stared at the building, all filled with thoughts of what it would eventually become. They moved forward in unison, approaching their future.

…

This town was used to new arrivals and were very helpful to the willing party of six, all from the tale of Alice in Wonderland, one seamstress allowed the hatter to clean her shop for a small selection of materials and eventually hired him to mend costumers clothing and the like, a café hired the two pretty girls known as Alice and Bunny to be waitresses and clean his kitchen, the Tweedle-twins were hired by the town magician and traveled with him to close villages to perform his tricks and learn his trade, and the one known as the Cheshire cat – though the only thing that the towns folk could see that resembled a cat were his ears and the tail that swished behind him – found employment just outside of town on a local farm, doing whatever was asked of him.

Even with all of them working for pay, they were barely able to make ends meet, repairing the house was out of the question, and their dreams seemed far out of reach. But something about working together and living the way they wanted, even if they weren't living their dream, made them all happy and treasure what they did have. They had each other, and they became that much more important to each other.

They were all content, until Alice popped a question one evening. All of them were gathered about the fire place, roasting sausages over the fire.

"You all realize that winter is just around the corner don't you?" they all looked at her blankly; seasons were a new thing for them. "What are we going to do to make more money? We need to fix the house, unless we plan on freezing our first year here."

None were quick to reply.

"You and I could work more shifts at the restaurant, the bar on the weekends too," Bunny said tentatively.

Alice smiled, "Good idea, what about the rest of you?" she looked around at the others, noticing that they were all staring at their sausages very intently.

"The old woman says that the cold weather stiffens her fingers, I suppose she will hire me on full time, it won't be much more but it will be some," Hatter broke the growing silence.

The twins looked at Hatter, then at Alice and Bunny, then at each other.

"Mage offered to apprentice us," Tweedy whispered.

"We won't get paid at first," Didi looked at Alice. "But soon we will be able to take on our own patients and clients."

"In the long run it will be more profitable," Tweedy finished.

"Good show my boys! Go for it I say!" the Hatter smiled widely at both the young boys.

Chesh stared off into the fire, lost in his own thoughts, recalling what the other farm hands had said about the town over. Something about hunting criminals down for a profit and how one man had been hired, for an unheard of price, someone to bring him a man who had shamed his daughter or some such tale. He couldn't remember the exact sums or what the jobs entailed completely, but he remembered it was far beyond what he was making as a hand. He tore his gaze away from the orange flames and looked to Alice who waited expectantly, knowing he wouldn't let the family down.

"There isn't much the farmer needs me for in winter, so after the harvest he's letting me go," Chesh said and caught a disappointed look from Bunny. "But, some of the hands were telling me of work in the town over, Dusk Wood I believe, I'll go there after the harvest and find employment."

Alice's face dropped and everyone else looked at him with fear, he didn't quite understand.

"You're leaving?" Bunny asked, tears gathering in her eyes.

"Only for a while, I have to come back and help with the repairs don't I? I'll only be gone long enough to make some money, and then I'll come back," he grinned at the prospect that they would actually miss him; it was a good feeling, being needed. The smiles that the twins and Hatter beamed at him were rays of sun on his face, and it warmed him from the inside out.

…

The day was chill and gray and every so often the clouds would open up and let sheets of cold water rain down onto the already soaked earth, creating a moist feel to the air. There wasn't much that could be done in on a day like this, trails would be hard to scent, so Chesh had been given a day of rest and sat at home near the fire on the ratty old couch, a warm mug of cider steaming between his roughened hands. He didn't enjoy rainy days much, maybe every once in a while, but this fall had turned into a rather wet one and he wasn't particularly enjoying it. Listening to the drip and the resounding ping of a leaky roof leaking into the assortment of pots and pans Alice and Bunny had set about in hopes of not needing to replace the flooring made the night of no sleep seem longer than it actually was. Everything about this damp season had sadly turned Chesh's mood sour, but this moment of silence and the warmth of both the fire and the mug was soothing to his dampened spirits.

He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until a soft touch from a warm hand caressed him away from his dreamless snooze. Bunny was leaning over him, looking at his face with concern and holding a gentle hand to his forehead. But Chesh could hardly concentrate on her face; didn't she know that she shouldn't bend over in the raunchy waitress uniform she was made to wear? Her generous bosoms were on tempting display before his eyes, and he was having a hard time of not relenting to such temptation. He managed to pry his gaze away from the beautiful things and instead tried to force himself to focus on the concerned features of her face.

"You don't feel too warm, are you ok Chesh?" she asked, removing her sweet fingers from his forehead, unaware of the blush creeping up Chesh's neck.

Before he was capable of speaking Chesh took several gulps of his cider, hoping to clear his throat of its thickness. "I'm fine," but he sounded anything but fine, he sounded gruff in his own ears.

"Are you lying to me?" Bunny finally stood up straight, and Chesh gave a sigh of relief, he would have to visit the restaurant to make sure she wasn't being treated rudely.

"No," he chuckled, sounding almost himself. "I'm fine Bunny, just tired," he gave her a half-hearted grin.

"Well," she broke into a smile of her own. "At any rate, I'm so glad you're home! I would've said so last night, only you went straight to bed and you looked so grim I was too scared to say anything, but now you seem better!" she said this as she scampered across the room and picked up a rather large pot and began dragging it toward the fire, her chatter was like music to his ears, it had only been a few weeks since his departure, but those weeks away had given him quite enough time to realize just how much his dear friends meant to him. He smiled at her efforts to lift the pot onto the fireplace hanger, got up and moved to help her.

"Allow me, little housewife," he teased her and picked up the pot with ease as she blushed a strawberry pink. "It's good to be home, speaking of which," he turned to her. "Why are you here so early in the afternoon?"

"To take care of you, of course!" she exclaimed happily and stood on tip-toes to retrieve a spoon hanging from a peg on the wall. "Alice said I should come home and make sure you eat something, because you see, I noticed that you are far too skinny to be eating enough, and if I know you, you get so caught up in whatever it is that you're doing that you forget eating is something important to do! And, of course, I was telling Alice all this just this morning, and she said if I was so worried I should just come home and see to it that you eat. So here I am!" Chesh couldn't help smiling at her; everything she had said was true, and it was just like her to worry about something as mundane as eating enough.

"Well," Chesh began as he turned back to the couch. "You're very right about the fact that I probably wouldn't have eaten anything this afternoon." He sat down presently and retrieved his mug of cider from the floor where he had set it. "I would've completely forgotten and simply slept until you all came home, most likely," he took a sip from his mug and found it pleasantly warm, the perfect temperature.

Bunny was currently bending over, poking at the fire with the iron poker, and stirring the soup with the spoon in the other hand, and from Cheshire's location, he had a fine view of her pink polka-dotted undergarments. "What am I going to do with you?" she sighed.

"I could ask you the same question," Chesh chuckled.

Bunny spun on her heal to face him, the spoon heedlessly dripping onto the floor, "Why?" she asked.

"No reason," he cleared his throat and then chuckled at the face she made.

"Well I said it because this just isn't going to work Chesh!" she looked rather flustered, and she felt that way, she felt even more so when the look Chesh gave her was one of a very confused sort. "You aren't eating enough! I could hardly get you to eat enough before and now with you gallivanting off on your new job you're just going to wither away into nothing because you won't eat! You have to eat!" she stomped her foot, she meant it, but she was receiving little response from the stoic cat-boy and that made her think that he certainly wasn't taking her very seriously. She sighed, "I'm not getting to you at all am I?" and she resigned herself back to the duty of stirring the soup.

Chesh smiled benignly and then proceeded to drain the rest of his cider, "If it will ease your worrying, Bunny, I will try my best to eat more regularly."

"Oh thank you! Yes!" he response was more than what he had expected, she flung the spoon and pounced onto Chesh, wrapping her arms about his neck and planting a noisy kiss on his cheek. "Isn't today wonderful?" she exclaimed and bounded away from the blushing cat to the large window.

Chesh took a deep breath and his skin took on a more normal shade, "Nice isn't the word I would use," he grumbled.

"Oh?" Bunny glanced back at him, then turned her gaze back to the window. "I think it's lovely," she sighed.

"How do you figure that?" Chesh asked, not too interested in the matter at all.

"Well I find that when the clouds are gray and somber as they are today, and threes are so full of fall colors they look that much brighter," she looked dreamy as she gazed out the window, but Chesh hadn't understood at all what she had meant.

"What?" he asked incredulously.

Bunny turned to him and motioned for him to join her, and he did, though reluctant to leave his newly warmed cushion. "Just look," she pointed at the twin maple trees in their small expanse of yard. "Don't their colors look really rich?" she asked, and Chesh couldn't deny that they were very vibrant. "When the sun is out, they don't seem nearly as bright, it's the contrast of the somber tones of gray and the warmer tones of the reds and oranges that make them seem so much brighter."

Never had Cheshire heard something so complex come out of Bunny's mouth and it made him wonder what other thoughts like that were held captive in that mysterious mind of hers. A certain form of intrigue took hold of him, a want to know more about this friend he had thought he had known so well. But then she was smiling as always and her eyes were shining just as they always had, he watched her retreat, scooping up the spoon from the floor and returning to stirring the soup. He pulled himself away from the strange thoughts that were running through his head, he shouldn't be surprised by what she had said, and he returned to his spot on the couch.

…

He sat staring out the window in his shop, bored with the outfit he had been working on, it was simple, nothing too fanciful about it, creating it was like being a machine: constantly copying the same style over and over. He was bored, out of spirits and in need of a good cup of tea. So, with little care, he left his work bench and headed down the stairs to the first floor.

As soon as he opened the door all the fragrances of the bakery wafted to his nose, inviting him in and instantly awaking his hunger. How Bunny managed to make such amazing pastries, cakes, cupcakes, breads, crepes, pies, and anything else she decided to try out was beyond Maddy's reckoning, but he was very grateful for it. And in addition to Bunny's skill with baking and cooking, Chesh had proved his worth in the culinary arts by brewing the best coffee, tea and just about any other beverage there was.

Maddy made his way to the bar and took a seat on one the stools, and leaned on the counter, his pensive mood dissipating almost instantly as Alice approached. She sat down next to him, still laughing at the costumer she had just been chatting with.

"You just beat the rush Maddy, people will be filing in like crazy in about ten minutes. So," she nudged him with her shoulder. "What can I get you?"

Maddy smiled and threw his arm over her shoulders and pulled her close for a side hug, "Tell Chesh to surprise me with his latest spin in the tea department, and tell Bunny I'm ready for lunch."

Alice laughed, "Alright, I'll be right back."

Maddy watched her walk into the kitchen, her dress showing a generous amount of thigh, her heels making her seem taller, and the blousy apron hiding her small chest. She was beautiful, anyone could see that. Why she was so particular about what she wore was beyond Maddy, but he had no qualms about it, he would make her anything she liked.

Alice exited the kitchen, Chesh close behind her, her smiling and him somber as was his custom since they had entered this world, without his trademark smile Maddy felt he hardly knew him. But Alice's shining face blew his thoughts of the cat-boy out the door, and his own face broke into a smile of his own, his cheeks warming.

"Isn't Bun-buns just a doll?" she exclaimed as she set a plate with a delicious looking sandwich on it before the hatter. "She had it ready and waiting, saying she had heard stairs creaking and knew you were on your way down. She astounds me," Alice smiled at Maddy as she seated herself beside him.

There was a sudden clank of china and Maddy looked up to find Cheshire with a teapot tipped sideways and a stream of dark liquid pooling into the teacup that he supposed was responsible for the clank as it was set into its saucer.

"Care for cream?" Chesh asked, his face set into a look of droll tolerance.

Maddy nearly laughed at his expression, but caught a glance from Alice and merely replied: "Yes, please."

Cheshire disappeared behind the bar and then reappeared with a small pitcher of cream which he ladled a dipper into and poured a measured amount of it into the teacup. "Sugar? Or honey?" he asked.

"Sugar," Maddy replied, content to watch this comical display.

Taking the pitcher with him, the cat disappeared once again, returning this time with the sugar bowl from which he spooned two small teaspoons of sugar. He then held the spoon, with much drama, aloft between his pointing finger and thumb, and then he descended upon the cup with a vengeance, stirring with a grave expression upon his face. He brought the spoon to his puckered lips, sipping loudly. "Oh," he said sadly. "Hardly remarkable," he said as he sank behind the bar. A moment later, his hands were searching the bar for the unremarkable cup of tea. Alice picked up the teacup and handed it to the cat's hand, his fingers just gazing hers, sending heat to her ears.

Maddy and Alice heard some clinking then a slosh, and then Chesh was before them again, his wicked smile adorning his lips, shaking a shiny metal contraption. Then he was gone again and grounding, frothing noises could be heard from somewhere behind the counter. Finally there was a clank of china once again and Cheshire rose slowly from behind the counter with the teacup balanced on his pointing finger.

"Here you are, most patient of sirs," he bowed, his nose nearly colliding with the counter, and his arm extended toward the hatter, the cup and saucer still balanced precariously on his outstretched finger.

The hatter accepted the cup, and dramatically placed the cup and saucer onto the table before himself before delicately lifting the cup by its handle and bringing it to his lips. Chesh and Alice waited expectantly for his reaction; Bunny now peaked out of the kitchen doorway also waiting for the verdict. Hatter sipped, smacked his lips then placed the cup back in its saucer placidly.

"Well," he said after a moment's pause. "It certainly isn't unremarkable." His smile was wide, and then he stood and spun in a circle, "What do you call it Cheshire? It has a splendid bite to it!" Hatter exclaimed.

Alice and Bunny sighed and smiled approvingly at the Cheshire cat, who drank in their worship with his shoulders straight and chin held at a proud angle.

"I call it," and his smile became wicked again. "Chia," he paused, and all looked at him in puzzlement. "Spiked," he finished, crossing his arms and sticking out his tongue.

Hatter's shoulders slumped, "Spiked?" he asked sadly. "But it's hardly noon!" Hatter tossed his hat at the cat, in a tantrum. "Now is not the time to be drunk Cheshire you blasted cat!"

Cheshire had ducked the hat and retrieved it, placing it on his head at an angle that hid his right eye and made him look rather attractive, in a mischievous way.

And then the chase began, just as some of the noontime regulars began to trickle in for their lunch that had become their norm since the opening of the café. Chesh dodged the Hatter's reaching for the hat, saying all sorts of childish things such as: _give it back, it's mine, you stinking cat give me my hat! Bunny tell him to give it here! _But of course the Cheshire cat wasn't the type to listen to orders, he had lived alone far too long for that, and so the Hatter mounted the bar and chased the cat whose smile grew into that of the mad sort that had been most familiar in the story of the past.

While the two comically mad characters ran about the shop, hopping atop tables and creating a raucous that the town had quickly grown to love, Allstar Benet sat down before the out of tune piano and banged out a beat that sent the cat and the hatter a-dancing about, grabbing girls and women and twirling them about. The old piano was soon joined by the sharp sounds of the electric guitar as one of the twins flipped on his amp, and his mike and the other sat down behind his drum set and flipped on the amp for the idle bass which was soon taken up by a dark figure they hadn't had the pleasure of meeting yet. Johnny B. Goode filled the café with a swinging beat and had all the customers shoving the tables against the bar for more dancing room. Alice and Bunny were claimed by the hatter and swinging cat, which still possessed the hat.

A dance off was in the making, Bunny and Chesh, a well matched pair, standing off against the just as well matched Hatter and Alice, the crowd of lunch costumers clapped and laughed and called out raunchy comments at the pairs. They twirled and spun and skip-hopped about, the boys swung the girls and lifted them and spun them and flung them. Then in the midst of Good Golly Miss Molly, Bunny gave a shrill cry.

"Oh good golly!" she spun away from Chesh, leaving him staring after her, breathing hard and confused. "The Honey-butter Bread!" and she retreated to the kitchen.

The hatter proudly swiped the hat from Cheshire's head and placed it on his own, and then he and Alice turned to the crowd and bowed to their cheering hurrahs.


	3. Chapter 3 SMOKE AND GOLD

CHAPTER 3. SMOKE AND GOLD

The dank and earthy smell of the forest was thick, the air was wet and chill with the promise of winter, the forest floor was a damp carpet of leaves and mud and moss, almost bouncy, but above all the rank stench of someone who hadn't bathed in days and the fumes from a fire reached Cheshire's heightened senses and led him from limb to limb in a northward direction, deeper into the Dusk Woods. He had been following this trail for some time and now the odor was stronger and much closer. He leapt from his tree to the ground and prowled closer, his black fur blending well with the darkness of the canopied forest, his belly low to the ground and his padded paws silent as spirits as he moved closer.

The man was sprawled on the ground, a hat covering his face and a gun lying on his broad chest. Cheshire let the pants he had been carrying with him, for when the form he now wore became a hindrance, drop from his mouth and then slunk forward from the brush towards his prey. He eyed him humorously, a smile threatening the torn corners of his kitty-cat mouth, he carelessly batted the gun off the man's chest, watching it land a few feet away then began messing with the man's hat, intending to annoy him into wakefulness. When the man snorted, Cheshire couldn't repress a guffaw, which woke the man up and Cheshire leapt to the tree limbs overhead before he was spotted.

The disoriented man looked around him, rubbing his eyes, trying to make them adjust to the dim light quicker. He scratched his head in puzzlement, and heard a snicker from above, he reached to his side, wear his holster was attached but found his gun was gone, he looked about himself and saw it laying a few feet away then scrabbled towards it.

"Ah, ah, ahhh…" the Cheshire cat cooed down at the scrambling man, but he kept moving. The cat pounced, landing in the fire and extinguishing most of it, then leapt back up knowing that sparks clung to his fur giving him a most interestingly dark aura.

When the man finally retrieved his gun, Cheshire was safe in the tree limbs, though he doubted it would take long for the man to spot him. With winter nigh at hand, the trees had given up most of their cloaking leaves, leaving Cheshire to pose among the limbs in a most uncomfortable way. And just as the cat had expected, the man spotted him and fired a round, and just as planned Cheshire leapt from limb to limb and then eventually into the brush and skirted around so that he was now behind his prey. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed toying with those he hunted. He snickered, and the man turned and fired again.

Cheshire leapt right into the fray of flying bullets, disappearing in a puff of somber colored smoke and appearing only inches from the man's face. He wacked the gun from the man's shaking hand, leaving behind red trails in the man's skin, marking him as a kill. Cheshire laughed, a throaty sound purring from deep within, and then, allowing himself to transform only slightly, knocked the man senseless.

"…A job well done, my man!" the drunk boy who had been ordered to retrieve the sketched portrait and hold it next to the tied and gagged criminal, who was neglectfully left on the floor next to the table where the woman of leading authority held office.

Cheshire stood stoically by, a tired expression plastered on his face, successfully containing his rising anticipation of going back home with another purse-full of money.

"Yes, certainly, a job very well done," the hard looking woman commented and then proceeded to drain her mug. She stood and motioned for Cheshire to follow with the criminal.

Cheshire obeyed, slinging the man over his slim shoulder and following, perfectly able to keep her quickened pace. He kept his eyes on the floor, the form-fitting black leather outfit she wore was hardly modest, was he ever going to be able to get over this boyish blushing problem? If he had any intention of keeping up the image he had established here, he would have to remedy this problem soon.

They walked through the doorway that led to the secret dungeon, although it wasn't a secret to anyone who lived in this town or worked among the folk who lived here, Reigh had told him that the only people it was really kept secret from was the royalty. This had made little sense to Cheshire, no one ever spoke of the royalty in Far Side, and here in Dusk Wood the royalty were strongly despised. He hadn't quite figured out why yet, but he could find out if he wanted to, the problem was he didn't really care.

Reigh unlocked one of the iron doors and motioned for Cheshire to dispose of the criminal, and Cheshire heartily obeyed, quickly slashing the bonds and gag with a knife he retrieved from his boot. Reigh locked the door when Cheshire was safely on the other side, and they walked back to the bar.

"I have some questions for you, Smoke," Reigh said and led the way to a table in the far corner, where she normally held office for her bounty hunters. Cheshire sat down with her and waved at the boy who had congratulated him earlier.

"And these questions are?" Cheshire asked while he took his knife from his boot again and began whittling at the table top.

"Why do you go by a name like Smoke, and why on earth do all of your kills have nightmares about a cat as black as night, smiling like a crescent moon with purple smoke seeping from its nostrils? Are you some kind of magician? As your employer I have a right to know such things," she ended just as the boy set before them two mugs brimming with the bar's best.

"Ah," Cheshire took a sip of his drink. "The personal sort of questions," he chuckled. "I will tell you most of the truth, I believe I can trust you with that much," he took another sip and then set the mug down. "I go by the name Smoke simply for safety precautions," he began. "Surely you can understand that, I don't live in this town and therefore am not under your protection. If I was simply doing this for myself and my own selfish hunger for money, I wouldn't bother with a fake name, but I have a family to protect. And as for the cat, panthers are extremely good trackers, if you can master their animalistic tendencies, honestly, I'm surprised that all of the criminals I've been able to capture are still alive, they're lucky in that respect." And there he stopped, smiling broadly at the woman in front of him, her face fixed into a frown.

"I'll buy the first half," she said after carefully placing her own mug on the table top. "The second half is questionable, I have never once seen the beast, and surely it would terrorize an out-of-town farm or some such and I would hear of it, wild animals cannot be fully removed of their instincts," her watchful gaze was searching Cheshire's for hints, he could sense it, but he knew the silver ice in his eyes wouldn't give him away.

"People here already look at me with unease, do you really think I would give them more reason to question me by lugging around a dangerous beast?" he asked, a smirk adorning his lips.

Reigh shut her lavender eyes, breathing in deeply, "I believe that the reason they look at you with 'unease' as you put it, is simply because we all can see you are hiding something, Smoke. A name I can tolerate, but this beast, as you say, must be brought to light. The prisoners have pitted my people against you, they are afraid of you, and if you do not come clean I will be forced to turn you over to my brother and let him deal with you. I hate to lose a good hunter."

Cheshire felt a tightness in his chest he hadn't felt for a long time, fear. "Reigh, you must understand," he spoke calmly, defeat coating his tone. "This beast, it can't be revealed."

"And why not?" she asked, her pale brow furrowing.

"I fear that," he faltered for an explanation. "I fear the judgment, if it were to be revealed to the public," he ended blandly.

"Public judgment? A panther isn't something that I would want to bring to the center of town for a judgment, you buffoon, my brother and I must be the only ones who really know of it, the town will trust our dealing of you and your beast."

Cheshire was silent for a moment, "May I think on it?"

"So you have the night to run off? I think not, I expect an answer now, Smoke," she lifted the mug again and drank.

Cheshire leaned back in his chair, eying the woman before him with contempt, but also respect, her lavender eyes were fixed on him, her pale lips in a fine line and her midnight hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail. He couldn't help a snicker as she drained her mug and crossed her arms below her breasts, making the rotund things bulge and cause the leather to squeak appreciatively, "Alright fine, you nagging witch, I'll show you the damned beast."

…

The sleek black carriage stopped on the cobblestone road just outside the once topsy-turvy house, though now it seemed to be a bustling café. The house seemed to be completely repaired; nothing of the former run down place seemed to remain, except for maybe a slight tilt about it. So when the young man gazed at the quaint little residence out of his expansively paned window there was a mild look of approval upon his elegant face. He opened his door and let himself to the ground, all the while his exotic amber gaze sweeping the place.

He stood a moment in silence, taking in the faint scents of baking goods, and when he spoke, his voice was deep with a hint of arrogance about it, very regal. "Roger," he addressed his driver without much attempt at poise.

"Yes, my lord," the driver replied, turning in his seat to face his master more squarely.

"Are you quite sure this is the correct address? It seems much altered from our first visit," the young man inquired, running a hand through his white-gold locks, ruffling it like a flustered rooster.

"Quite positive, my lord," replied the adoring servant, with a slight bow of his heavily covered head, for he was going bald and his loving wife took great pleasure in sewing odd pieces of fur together to form sock like caps for the aging man.

"Huh," the young man's shoulders slumped and his arms swung limp at his sides, much like the first time he had visited the place not too long ago. The last time, he remembered quite clearly, he had sagely said: _Well, I rather expected at least a livable house, not a dump. A hunter such as he is can afford better. _And then, with much thought: _well, I can't very well wound him if there's nothing to wound, and I can't make him miserably homeless when he's barely got a home to begin with… _He sighed in frustration just remembering that, then he brought himself together and said to his doting driver, "Will you drop the formalities Roger? It's hardly necessary."

Roger, already pink from the chilly breeze, hid his embarrassment well, "Of course, forgive me," he paused, perhaps waiting for his master to give him an order or make some sort of move to leave or return to the carriage. "Sir?" the servant asked.

"Yes?" asked the golden man, and then seemed to grasp something in a mindful way. "Oh! Of course," he smiled attractively and waved a hand at his servant. "I will be quite alright here Roger; I no longer have need of you. Please, my dear friend, take the day for yourself, I shall return to our room this evening at some time, good day!" and he walked up the little path to the café and mounted the steps as Roger snapped his whip and the horses plodded on down the cobblestone road.

The young golden man entered the café without fear, he knew the cat was out, making a profit by taking down more of the his own puppets, and even if the cat was here he doubted that it'd have any reason to suspect him of anything unpleasant. The golden man was, after all, a pleasant sort of person, rapacious at times perhaps, but only when provoked.

The café smelt wonderful. Blends of breads and cakes and soups and warm drinks filled the air like a symphony of smells that were fresh and immediately made the young man aware of just how hungry he was. He made his way to the bar and sat on one of the many stools, gazing at the menu above the large hole in the wall that provided him with a splendid window view of the baskets full of bread and a peek into the kitchen itself. He noticed that a rather attractive blonde with a frumpy apron with too many ruffles up front and heals that made her appear as if she were trying too hard to be someone she wasn't, was taking orders. There were two young boys also taking orders, he took a second look at them and decided he would never be able to distinguish one from other even if he had known them their whole little lives. He wondered how the cat lived so sweet and innocent a life here and yet felt the need to go about assassinating the pieces of a well-proportioned game for a bit of extra pay, it didn't really make sense to him.

"Good afternoon, sir, have you decided what you would like?" the soft voice pulled him from his musings, it was just as well, he decided before turning toward the voice, if he thought much harder he supposed he'd give himself a headache.

He turned to the voice and the placidly bored expression on his graceful face melted immediately into one of astonishment. The sweet face he now stared into was perhaps one a fallen angel or that of a young goddess. He was speechless, her profound beauty swept over him like a spreading fever, sending shivers down his spine and bringing a warmth to his cheeks that he was all too good at keeping in check in normal situations. The soft perfectly sculpted face tilted just so and asked softly with lips red as the blood of a raspberry pie, and if he were to be presumptuous enough to taste them, he was certain they would be just as sweet as they appeared: "Sir, are you alright?"

He shook his head and placed a hand on his forehead, trying to manage his unreasonable feelings and cool the heat that was escalating through him.

"May I get you something?" she asked more urgently. "Is there anything I can do sir?"

He cleared his throat, "Oh, I'll be alright," his voice husky and shaking despite his efforts. "Perhaps a glass of ice tea?" he didn't lift his head until he heard her scurry away.

Breathing deeply he looked to the window that allowed him the small view into the kitchen, he could just see her, her back turned to him, the strawberry tinted honey of her hair was wrapped into a thick French braid down her back and tied with a white satin ribbon, a few unruly curls had escaped it however and just brushed the nape of her slender neck. And then she turned and he saw the long, velvet, mouse-brown flop-ears that fell to her shoulders like perfect accessories, fully revealing her soft, shy nature. She hurried out of the kitchen to where the young golden man sat, her perfect cheeks blushing slightly, she set the glass down in front of him, and then looked up at him. His amber gaze met hers and it took the breath from the young man's lungs, her eyes were deep, inviting orbs of warm chocolate, as enticing as they were gentle and they pulled softly at the strings of his long dormant heart. He glanced away quickly and reached for the cup.

He gulped down the tea, not heeding the small cubes of ice, and got what he deserved. The freezing of the back his throat and the slicing sensation of the chill brain-freeze "Thank you," he managed to choke out, and set the glass down carefully. "Thank you very much," he managed a chuckle as the freeze left his mind clearer and cooler. "May I ask for the name of such a delicate flower?" he asked, now able to gaze upon her face without insuppressible rapturous responses from his betraying body.

She gave a light laugh and blushed prettily, bringing one hand to rest above her perfect breasts which seemed all too exposed, even though the dress she wore was not all that low cut or fashioned in any way that emphasized that beautiful feature. The slight ruffle at the lining was contrived in order to hide more of them, but perhaps wasn't given the right amount of thought on the seamstress' part, once sighted, the gorgeous things were hard to look away from.

"My name is Bunny I suppose," she laughed.

Fitting, the young man thought drolly while his face colored and he wrenched his gaze back to her lovely face. "A pleasure," he stood and bowed to the goddess before him, hoping to have a moment to bring his mind back to safer waters, preferably chill ones.

"Oh, please sit down, sir. May I take your order?" she asked, smiling so innocently, oblivious to any of the hardship she was putting this young man through.

"Yes," he looked askance at the large menu board and was saved the arduous task of choosing by the large printed CAFÉ SPECIAL OF THE DAY! "The day's special, please."

She nodded and turned, perhaps a bit too swiftly, the skirt was short and the turn furled it up to a precariously high level, showing just a teensy bit of her white panties. The golden man allowed his head to fall to the cool top of the bar and he was content to wait there until his angel returned. Never had he imagined that he would find an object preciously beautiful enough to capture his heart strings and make them sing with song and movement, and in the house of his enemy too. What exactly had he gotten himself into? Damaging the one who attempted to foil his games would also damage this stunning creature he was becoming quite fond of, even if the only thing he really knew about her was that she was simple enough to wear plain panties, and that he could hardly look at her without losing his better judgment. He sighed heavily and lifted his head at the sound of heals approaching.

"Has your order been taken, sir?" he was faced with the girl in the frilly apron, and it would've been easy for him to look at her with little more than disgust, but he hid it well behind a mask of reserve.

"Yes," he drawled. "Thank you," he added a moment later, hoping to dismiss her from his presence, but she didn't budge, she was studying him, he realized, and he found that fact not to his liking at all. "Do you want something?" he asked in the most civil tone he could manage.

"Well no," he could see that he had made her feel a bit awkward. "I just haven't seen you here before," she continued.

"This would be my first time in this dainty little café," he confirmed for her in the same stiff tone, he wasn't sure what about this girl-in-the-frilly-apron unnerved him, but something about her wasn't quite to his liking.

"No," she said hesitantly. "I mean I've never seen you in town either," and here she paused, looking at him a bit less intently. "I am Alice, nice to meet you!" it was as if she had suddenly flipped a switch, the charm was instantly turned on, and something in the golden man's brain clicked together. She was an actress, or perhaps overcome with intentional mood swings, one moment brooding, the next gushing with joy and excitement. In his mind, she wasn't 'real'.

"And you," he managed, and then heard a plate clack against the countertop. His Venus had returned, the beautiful Bunny! "Oh, thank you my dear," he smiled graciously.

"You're welcome, sir. Alice," she turned to Alice, her voice still as gentle as a caress. "Some of the orders are ready," and she turned back to the kitchen.

"I'm on it!" Alice called, and headed to the other side of the bar to the window and took the waiting plates.

The golden man contented himself to sipping the steaming soup and contemplating his next move, or rather, how he was going to monopolize Bunny for a friendly chat, or perhaps, how he was going to make his presence in this town not so odd, nobody in their right mind would vacation to Far Side for a holiday, he now needed a reason to be here, that much was clear to him. He dunked a crust of his bread into the creamy soup. He ate for a time in silence, then the sound of water filling a cup and small cubes of ice clinking merrily against the glass brought him from his thoughts. Alice stood before him, on the opposite side of the bar, she set the pitcher of tea on the counter top then stared at him.

"Yes?" he asked, I bit more comfortably now that his thoughts were cleared and he now had a purpose, though he wasn't quite sure how to accomplish that purpose, but he knew he could count on Roger for some ideas.

"Who are you?" Alice asked innocently, though how such a direct question could be asked in such a way surprised him.

"You mean my name? Or my title? Or perhaps who I perceive myself to be?" he asked playfully, knowing that he was being annoyingly sarcastic.

"Well, I was meaning your name I suppose, but if you want to tell me all that then go right ahead," she replied. "The only reason I'm asking is because I know Bunny never would, she's not exactly great at keeping the conversation moving," she added not a breath later, and then awaited the man's reply, leaning against the counter in a very familiar sort of way, as if she and he had been friends for a while, which totally contrasted with the question asked.

"I am Lord Lucius Radiant, of the Illume Manor," he said proudly, and then slunk back in his chair. "However, here in this town I wish to be known as simply Lucius Radiant, no title please."

"And why is that," she leaned in, interested.

"I would rather be looked at with equality, I am simply a man looking for opportunities," he smirked at his own pun, and then dunked another crust of bread in the cooling soup.

"Oh, I see," she said, then looked over her should and noticed that some more orders were ready and she was off again.

Lucius had another moment of quiet to himself, and he thought that perhaps this Alice person wasn't nearly as terrible as her clothes, hadn't Roger told him many times not to judge appearances? Though appearances were what he was best at, judging and otherwise, they were important. So what exactly did he want to be perceived as here? Exactly what he had confessed to Alice, a man on the lookout for opportunities, but what kind of opportunities? Perhaps his trade, he thought. He knew that his gifts to the servants had been adored thoroughly for his craftsmanship, and the children of his farming families and even the farmers themselves looked forward to his seasonal shows. Could his odd hobby be turned into more than that? Perhaps roger would know.

"Well don't you look deep in thought," the voice was male and tired sounding.

"Yes, I confess I was," Lucius replied as he turned to the voice, and found before him a most interesting specimen. He wore an odd, old looking top hat, and a coat just as worn to match, his skin was a most interesting pale shade and his eyes, in contrast, were deep, dark pools of thick blood, and the choppy hair that stood out jagged from beneath the hat was a pure, snowy white.

"Well I hope you don't mind my intrusion then," he leaned onto the counter, removing his hat and messing his hair.

"Oh no, of course not," Lucius quickly replied, he could tell he would like this one, he was definitely a pleasantly odd sort of person.

"I'm Hatter," he held out a hand, a thimble still stuck on his pointing finger, Lucius couldn't help staring at it a moment. "Oh," Hatter eyed his finger, one eye closed. "Don't mind that, it's frozen on there, it gets rather chilly up in my work room."

…


End file.
